


Skype Date

by lamoamadeen



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-21
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamoamadeen/pseuds/lamoamadeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pi fixes his webcam but forgets to turn it off. Jin watches, and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skype Date

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Pin meme. Edited version.
> 
> Last night I finished kizuna, and this was my way of writing away the stress that whole fic gave me.

**AshitaNoPi:**  
 _So, before I go. Word's out that next time Tegoshi dresses up, I can send him to you for the lingerie._

**J.I.N:**  
 _HAHAHA I GOT TONS EUROPEAN FANS ARE CRAZY!!!  
wait, u think he'd actually wear that????? EWWW! That stuff's been WORN u dont know where it's BEEN!!!_

**AshitaNoPi:**  
 _I don't think he'd mind._

**J.I.N:**  
 _WHAT? PI THAT'S. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEW._

**AshitaNoPi**  
 _hahaha, you're so dumb sometimes._

**AshitaNoPi:**  
 _And you're one to talk._

**J.I.N:**  
 _WTF!? I DON'T WEAR WOMEN'S UNDERWEAR THAT'S BEEN. WORN._

**AshitaNoPi:**  
 _No. But I remember some of the places YOU'VE BEEN._

**J.I.N:**  
 _...  
i was drunk, ok?_

**AshitaNoPi:**  
 _lol I remember that, too. Listen, it's late, gotta go off now. Have fun with your mountain of underwear. Maybe I'll try to fix my camera later and install the new headset so we can phone next time._

**AshitaNoPi:**  
 _Miss your voice. Be home soon._

**J.I.N:**  
 _GAY._

**J.I.N:**  
 _..._

**J.I.N:**  
 _..._

**J.I.N:**  
 _ah fuck. miss u too._

\---

Jin stares at the words as they appear in the chat window, feeling an irritating blush creeping up his checks. He hopes it's due to the drinks he's had at the afterparty.

And he hopes Yamapi will manage to get his camera and the headset running so they can actually talk next time. Not that Jin doesn't fiercely look forward to their cozy chatting time, but there's things that should only be spoken, not typed out where Jin has to stare at them endlessly until the words sound strange and different and not at all bro like the short mails they send each other whenever Jin's in Japan. Maybe the distance is finally getting to them.

Shaking off his thoughts about Yamapi and their chats and the strange blushes they are prone to give him, Jin decides to head straight for bed - it's eight in the morning, midnight in Japan. Belatedly, he wonders why Yamapi isn't out clubbing with the guys; tomorrow - _today_ \- is a Sunday and Pi mentioned having the day off.

Then he remembers the short mail he'd sent yesterday before the concert, telling Pi he'd be back late (and possibly drunk), so maybe they could talk when he'd return, and Jin realizes his friend must have blown off a rare night out for the chat they've just had.

He firmly ignores the way his heart skips a beat and gets up to have a shower. Because, no matter how much time he spends away from Japan, he is Japanese, and the thought of going to bed without prior bathing is just disturbing.

\---

Sitting in a tub of hot water does wonders for his sore muscles, and the peach-scented bathing oil he'll never admit to owning is a soothing contrast to the smell of sweat, smoke and spilled drinks he's been breathing all night. He stays in the water until it becomes too much of a hassle not to doze off and drown.

The bathrobe is fluffy and warm, and his eyes are drooping while he trudges to the door of his hotel room to double check if it's properly locked. Just in case a batshit fan out for his babies makes it past security. 

On the way back to the bed, he swats a tired hand at the main light switch, and the room goes a blissful dark.

Except for a dull gleam from his laptop, which he forgot to shut down.

He groans and flops down onto the chair, shaking his wet bangs out of his face. Then he stills. On the screen, right next to the open chat window, the webcam window he must have forgotten to close stares back at him. But it's no longer black like half an hour ago, when him and Pi had tried several times to establish a connection.

It's running. And it shows him a perfect view of Yamapi sitting on their couch in just his jeans, looking at a place somewhere below the camera. His eyes are flickering back and forth, like he's reading something on his laptop screen.

Jin chuckles, because that's typical for his friend. He must have fixed his end of the connection, but then forgotten to turn of the program when something else caught his attention.

Setting his fingers over the keyboard, Jin is about to type a message into their chat window when Yamapi jerks backwards for whatever reason, staring wide-eyed at his screen. 

Suddenly Jin realizes that this has the potential to be hilarious, and he leans back in his chair to watch some more before he makes himself known. Maybe Yamapi will make weird faces at the camera, or pick his nose, or fetch a secret knitting stash Jin doesn't know about, or jump around playing air guitar like the small guy in that film with the fighter planes. Jin snickers, because this might very well give him the come-back for Yamapi mocking his mountain of lingerie.

But right now, Yamapi isn't doing much of anything, except stare at his screen with a slightly glazed look in his eyes. Jin leans forward and squints at the small rectangle until he guiltily remembers Nakamaru's lectures about proper eye care. He clicks the button to pop out the window to full screen size and leans over to flick the small desk light on, feeling the top part of his bathrobe fall open.

When he looks back at his laptop, Yamapi's naked stomach is spread out across the entire screen, and Jin nearly topples off his chair in shock. While he watches, the muscles bunch and stretch, and Jin feels his throat go dry.

He tries to convince himself it's because he's jealous of those abs.

In the large window, Yamapi sits back down, dropping something onto the cushions just out of the camera's focus. Jin realizes he must have been leaning over his laptop to grab something from the coffee table. He bites his lip, guiltily wondering if maybe he should stop things here after all. It _is_ a bit mean to watch someone like this, without their knowledge. What if they did something private, something like-

Like lean back against the couch and open the zipper of their jeans.

Jin gasps and raises a hand to his mouth. Shocked into perfect stillness, he watches as Yamapi reaches down into his pants, chest shuddering at the first touch, and then there's an unmistakable rubbing motion going on in there.

Is he watching _porn_?

Jin doesn't know if he's suposed to burst into hysterical laughter or close the window immediately and forget he ever saw this, but it's difficult to think when his whole body has gone tense, a familiar warmth tingling low in his belly. Overwhelmed, he just keeps watching, and when he feels a drop of water drip onto his collarbone and coldly slide down his chest, grazing his nipple along the way, he shivers more than he should. 

He shifts on his chair to find a more comfortable position, spreading his legs slightly with a twinge of embarassment, and the bathrobe bathrobe slips down one shoulder. He's doesn't bother to push it back up, because the room has somehow gotten very warm.

Yamapi stills, and his eyes seem to flare with heat. Whatever he is watching, things must be getting interesting. He pulls his hand out of his pants, scrambling for whatever he dropped beyond the frame earlier, and when his hand returns into the picture, it's holding a familiar tube of lube.

Jin's feels his mouth drop open. That sneaky little -

But before he can work up a fit of indignation over Yamapi rummaging around in Jin's room and stealing his lube, Yamapi has one hand glistening with the stuff and the other pushing down his pants over his hips.

Jin stops breathing. 

Letting his eyes drop halfway shut, Yamapi wraps his hand around his cock and gives it a firm squeeze. His chest rises with a deep breath, and Jin feels a shudder run down his spine. He doesn't need to look down to know that he is hard. And unlike weird feelings during chatting, or strange jealousy over Yamapi's abs, or excessive reactions to drops of water, that one is impossible to explain away. 

And, to his shame, impossible to ignore.

Sprawling back in his chair, he keeps his eyes firmly on the scene before him, and slowly pushes the bathrobe fully open. For a second, he hesitates, but it doesn't really make a difference if he stops now or goes all the way - the fact is he's getting hot watching his best friend get off, and he'll have to deal with this later either way.

It doesn't have to mean he'll ever act on this, he reminds himself as Yamapi stops and stares at the screen, a hungry look in his eyes. It can be his own, secret experiment. If it goes wrong, he'll still be able to look Yamapi in the eyes, because he'll never know.

Taking a deep breath Jin touches himself, tentatively, because it _is_ sort of weird. But then Yamapi shudders, and Jin can see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, can see his hand begin to move in rapid strokes over his cock that glistens with the lube.

The _stolen_ lube, Jin remembers, and this time the thought sends a wave of heat rushing through his body.

Fuck this. He can think it through later.

Spreading his legs further, he wraps a determined hand around himself and begins to stroke, never taking his eyes of the screen. Yamapi is clearly further along; his hand is moving up and down frantically, squeezing and twisting while he watches the screen like it's the first and hottest porn he's ever seen, and his chest is heaving, and his stomach is tensing, muscles rippling beautifully, and then he stretches, lean and strong and firm, mouth falling open as he comes, like he's gasping something, maybe a name, maybe... 

It's the hottest thing Jin has ever seen. 

Breathing heavily, he feels a twinge of regret that the show is over now, and lets his eyes flutter shut to replay what he just saw. He slows down a bit, because hell, this is too good to rush it.

Then his laptop chimes. 

His laptop, which is set to pretend-offline mode. And the only one person he has talked to since logging on is Yamapi.

Jin snaps his eyes open. At the bottom of the screen, a notice of their earlier conversation is flashing red. Above it, still filling the whole screen, Yamapi is sitting at his laptop, apparently cleaned up. He's wearing a headset now, but he isn't speaking. He's still watching something, and looks strangely... expectant.

Jin's brain screeches to a halt. 

The webcam. The camera window that was black when he left. From earlier. When they'd tried to establish a live stream. Which was supposed to go both ways. And he'd... never really ended the streaming. Forgotten, because the window on his side remained black.

His left hand is still wrapped loosely around his cock. He gives it a short stroke, up and down. On his screen, Yamapi twitches.

What are the odds.

His hand is shaking when he reaches out to let the chat window pop open. 

There's a single message. 

-  
 **AshitaNoPi:**  
 _Jin. Put on your headset. Now._  
-

Jin stares at his headset. Breathes. Slowly puts it on. When he glances back at his screen, Pi is looking straight back at him. Jin stops moving. Remains perfectly still.

And then Yamapi's lips move, and the next second, his voice sounds in Jin's ear.

"Go on," he says slowly, voice deeper than Jin remembers. "Let me watch."

Jin swallows. "I..." he manages, but his throat is suddenly parched dry.

"Please," Yamapi says, and Jin shudders. His hand tightens around his cock. 

"Tomo... I..." It's like every work dies on Jin's tongue the moment he wants to say it. 

Yamapi's eyes soften to a warm, molten brown. "Stop thinking. It'll be alright, I promise."

Jin moves his hand. Gasps. "Can't think," he chokes, and it's true. His mind is a jumbled mess.

"Jin," Yamapi murmurs, and Jin's breath hitches. "Let go."

And Jin does. Lets his head fall back on the first stroke, moaning. Raises his free hand to slap it over it mouth, breathing heavily against his fingers as his fingers slide up and down and up- 

"Drop the hand," Yamapi breathes. "Let me hear you."

Obeying, Jin slips his hand down his chest to tease a nipple instead, and hisses at the burst of pleasure.

" _Tomo_ ," he gasps, voice hitching, and speeds up the rhythm of his hand.

On the screen, Yamapi is watching with burning eyes. It gets Jin off faster than anything. 

He feels his stomach tensing, bites his lip and sinks further down on the chair, the bathrobe billowing aound him, and his toes are curling, and he stretches his neck, baring his throat, " _God, you're beautiful_ " rasping in his ear, and he whimpers, because it feels like a wave building and building, and it has never felt like this; and those burning eyes are holding his gaze prisoner even as his lids grow heavy, want to flutter shut, " _Look at me_ ," and he looks, smoldering, rushes his hand up and down fast, so fast, but something's missing, he wants, he needs, and waits and-

"Come for me," Yamapi says, and Jin's body jerks. With a last shaky moan, he comes.

\--

For a while, none of them speaks, both breathing heavily over the distance of an entire ocean. 

Jin has his eyes closed, and as his brain slowly begins to resume work, he mumbles the first thing that comes to his mind. "If we ever do this for real, I'll faint."

Silence. Then a deep, audible breath. " _When_ we do this," Yamapi says, voice thick, like his heart is in his throat, and Jin's heart does a happy, exhausted leap. 

Theyll work it out from here.


End file.
